Tales of a Veteran
by TheIncredibleDancingBetty
Summary: The turtles come across a soldier who's wounded, both physically and spiritually, and come to this war veteran's aid in the only way they can. Rated for language and violence Sensitive issue
1. In the Gutter

Disclaimer: I don't own the TMNT

**Warning: Sensitive Issue Discussed**

A/N: Thank you for choosing this story. I do realize that this can be a touchy subject. I won't lie to you. I've been contemplating this story for quite some time but was warnedthat it wouldn't be a good ideato air it. I hope that I didn't make any mistakes.

I want to start this off with pointing out that in this story I will take no sides because I'm not really on a 'side' so to speak. Yes, I am in the military but that doesn't automatically mean that I'm pro-war. If I'm called to go then I'll go and I'll do my duty just like nearly everyone that I've talked to, veteran or no. I have not been to the war, and I will not pretend to know what it's like. If someone reading this finds a discrepency in the story or the facts presented please tell me and I will let it be known. All of the 'flashbacks' or 'stories' that you willread in this story were taken as accounts that I recieved from veterans. They are a great many in number, some are Army, Marines, or Navy so the reports might be somewhat varied. I will not go into detail into too many accounts simply because of the fact that I have no firsthand experience and because in some cases the veterans themselves were vague, which is perfectly understandable. This is a completely fictional character, and I don't know anyone with a wound of this magnitude, though I might come acrossit while working at the hospital. I have dealt with other cases.I hope that I am writing this story in a way that whether you are American, from the Middle East, or any other countrythat you willnot feel the least bit offended. If I do, please know that I am sorry and let me know so that I can rectify it. Please be reminded that this is not a story about the war, it is a story about a wounded soldier who has difficulty when coming home. Thank you.

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Chapter 1 

In the Gutter

Once again I wandered too close to the curb. The rubber tip of my crutches met open air and I toppled sideways into the street. Automatically I flailed my arm out, but my iron grip on the crutche's handle didn't release soon enough. My shoulder struck the pavement hard and my knuckles scraped against the side of the curb. I kissed dirt.

It is times like this when I wonder why this shit happened.

With a shaky sigh I relaxed and flopped over on my back. It might have been a strange sight, to see a crippled, husk of a man lying half on the sidewalk and half on the road but at the moment I didn't really give a damn. For one thing, the road, low and behold, was deserted. Yes, you are right in thinking that this is an unusual sight for any New York City street, but apparently that wasn't the case tonight. I'd wonder what the hell people really had to do at 1 o'clock in the morning. I guess that I'd fit in that category, hehehe.

Yeah. A crippled husk of a man.

My leg, or lack therof, decided to make itself known. The slight, but steady throbbing made me groan and ultimately helped me to decide that maybe lying in a New York City street in the middle of the night wasn't such a keen idea. After all, this wasn't Colorado. Peaceful Colorado. No other state like it. Here, I'm probably going to get mugged, beaten, then left in the path of a semi truck doing at least 30 above the speed limit.

For a moment I contemplated the idea then decided against it. Better to just continue. Besides, the gutter for some reason seemed really ominous at the moment. I wasn't sure why.

Slowly I eased myself up and onto the sidewalk. With practiced discomfort I braced the crutches and used them as my lean-on in order to get up. My right leg scraped uselessly on the sidewalk as it righted itself. My skin crawled at the sound. I hated that sound.

Technically I shouldn't be using crutches in the first place. I passed all my physical therapy, I recieved an 'approved' prosthetic, I hadn't even complained a bit. They just let me take the crutches home for 'bad days.' Yeah. Bad days. They should've been more specific.

I looked down and turned my head to view the curb. I hated my eyes. Or should I say eye. Piece of crap. Who's fu#king idea was it to put a curb in my blind spot anyway? Freaking morons. No respect.

No respect.

I gave a sigh of exasperation. Slowly I hobbled myself over and leaned against the wall. Reaching into my pocket I pulled out the map. Why the hell didn't I ever ask where Emily's friend lived?

Because she hardly ever mentioned her. Maybe now I found out why.

I was certain that I could find her, somewhere in this freaking city. This freakishly huge city. Frustrated I tried to refold the map. It didn't cooperate. Damn! I balled it up and thrust it in my jacket pocket. There! Good thing that this jacket has multiple, not to mention spacious pockets.

I slowly sidestepped and slid slowly into a nearby parkbench. What was I doing? Wandering around a big city in the middle of the night...no wait, early morning. Yeah. Well, I couldn't sleep for one thing. Sleep brought dreams and no one needs dreams. They're useless. Pointless. A complete waste of time. No one needs sleep, either. I'd know. Besides, there's less traffic during the night.More peaceful. Less noise.

I shrugged off my rugsack so that I could lean against the bench more comfortably. My hands automatically slid down and began to gently massage my right leg. Start with the thigh, end with the knee. Couldn't go anywhere else after that. I scowled at the prosthetic that replaced what used to be my right calf and foot. The people at the hospital told me that I was lucky to still have my knee. Lucky. Those turds didn't know what lucky was. The doctor told me that I was lucky that the skin grafts on my right arm bonded successfully. Lucky. They told me that I was lucky that I didn't lose _both_ eyes, only my right one. Or that I lost some hearing in my right ear instead of all ofit. It's only one eye. Only one ear.Only. Yeah, only. Only lucky.

This prosthetic device bothered the hell out of me. I'm pretty sure that it didn't fit right, it kinda pinched and moved around a little. It didn't help that the skin on my stump was sensitive.My fingers slid as low as they could in their massaging. I'm pretty sure I can feel another blister forming there too. But for some reason I just couldn't _not_ have the prosthesis. For me, it was better to be walking around on crutches on a summer's night sweating in pants with _two _legs instead of one. Two is a lucky number, you just don't know it yet.

I pulled up theleg a little bit and chuckled a bit. Isn't it ridiculous how far humans will go to look like everyone else? I even tied a freaking boot on the plaster foot! What am I worried about, stepping on a nail?

Yanking the pant leg back down I forcefully crushed this pityfest that I'd been putting on. It's my own fault that my prosthetic isn't the best that it could be. I was in such a rush to leave the hospital. I didn't even let them do thier best. I was in such a rush to see my dear Emily. My dear, dear Emily.

The hour made itself known when I was pulled into a long yawn.

I eyed the park bench. I've slept on worse before. Then again I've been up longer than this before. What was...what...twenty nine hours? Thirty? My mind wouldn't cooperate so I gave up. A nap did seem good at the moment...but then again who needs sleep?

Footsteps echoed down the empty street. For some reason they sounded ominous. I didn't want to give away that I was nervous about it, but the turds were coming from my right side. It's not like I could peek from my blind side. I turned my head and had to stiffle a groan. I wasn't really in the mood for this. Empty headed streek kids were the worst kind of punks. They were the kind that wanted to prove that they were 'all that' and went out to be 'tough' when with half of them their testicles hadn't even descended.

I leaned back and closed my eyes, pretending to ignore them. Maybe they'd go away. I'm not just saying that to be sappy, either. I can present a pretty mean picture. For one thing, I'm six foot six. Wide shoulders.Regulation haircut. The burns on my arm and on my right side extended up my neck and to my ear, making for a scary image. My well-developed chest, shoulders and arms showed even through the thin coat I had over my muscle shirt. Couple that with my camoflauge pants and military issue steel-toed boots, well, I've seen children shy away from me.

Then again, add in the crutches and I guess it kinda ruins the image.

The street punks approached closer, slouching and swaggering in the way that gang members do. You know what I mean, they either have a serious injury to thier leg or they have scoliosis or something. A girl in my high school walked like that so much everyone thought she had scoliosis until the x-ray proved otherwise. That kind of walk. Then I saw their radically dyed hair and their tatoos. Even though I've been in New York a very short time I recognized those tatoos. Purple dragons.

Why the hell are a bunch of kids wandering around at this time in the morning? Then again why am I? Well, never mind. At least they have a place to stay.

"Hey, what'r the crutches for?" One of the punks sneered. The stopped in front of me, half encircling the park bench. Well. This sure was a smart little bunch.

"Tap dancing. I can be a real riot." This brought looks of utter bewilderment among the kids. I sneered. I was too tired for this!"Crutches are for walking! What did you think that they were for you morons!"

Yeah.

On afterthought, maybe it wasn't the best idea to let my temper, my pain, and my utter fatigue get to my head like this. If only I wasn't so freaking tired, or my leg didn't hurt so much...if only I'd watch my mouth more often.

All of their faces were now scowling at me. Great. Just my lucky day. "Well, what's a cripple like you doing out at a time like this? What do you think boys? Do you think he's out here donating to the poor?" They all murmured agreements and started pulling out assorted weapons from their ridiculously baggy clothing. It was about this time that I realized my mistake. "Well, we're poor, aren't we boys? Why not donate to us?" Pipes. Chains. Knives. Brass knuckles. Clubs. Crow bars. Wow. This is going to be fun.

They came in closer. My nervousness didn't show in my speach. "Look, kids. I got nothing."

"What about that bag?"

My heart skipped. I know it sounds shallow, but they couldn't take my bag. They had no idea what my situation was like. I had nothing. All that I had was in my bag. My lunch, my clothing, my pictures, my metals...

One of the punks reached for it. He happened to be in the perfect spot. My arm tensed and I swung the crutch right into his crotch. He winced, but not enough for me and I delivered another blow in rapid succession. The kid went to his knees. I swung the other crutch as though it were a battle ax. It clocked another kid right above the ear. He immediately yelped and clapped his hand to his head.

By then the others were swarming in like a pack of dogs. One thing about the military is that they provide basic martial arts training. I mean the type that they think that you will use, when your enemy is coming at you from all sides. Quick and deadly.

My fist shot out and clocked one of them in the nose. I heaved myself to my feet in order to fight better, ignoring the sudden pain below my right knee. In this program I mentioned kicks were implemented, but I didn't dare do one with my fake leg. I didn't trust it. Instead I used the developed muscles in my shoulders and arms. They swung like battering rams, clutching the crutches like clubs. But it wasn't enough, there were too many of them.

Blows rained across my body but I took it. The ones to my right side and shoulder were particularly painful despite the fact that the burns were healed, but I sucked it up. Then one of them hit me hard. I don't know if he saw how I was favoring my right leg or what, but he swung the steel pipe straight for my shin. Immediately my prosthetic cracked, a splinter shooting up and snatching a good amount of tender flesh in a cruel stabbing pinch. It was like fire traveling up my spine. Once it hit my head I saw stars dancing before my eyes and I felt my world begin to spin. Nausea rolled up in my throat and for one dreadful moment I couldn't move, the pain was so intense.

It was one moment too long.

Another swipe of the steel pipe struck my right leg again, making me cry out. This time it continued it's path and knocked the legs out from under me. I hit the ground hard. No sooner had I touched it than the pipes, chains, and other various weapons quickly went to work. My prosthesis splintered even more, sending more waves of unbearable pain that almost drowned out everything else that they were doing to me. They crowded me. With my useles prosthesis I couldn't get up anyway. I felt the crutches being added to the beating. That familiar rubber tip pounding on my flesh. In my mind I tried to picture Emily. My dear sweet Emily...

The first strike came as a surprise to everyone. It was like one of the punks suddenly dissappeared. Then another. A "Hyaaaaaa!" rang through the air and another one was beaten down. They were being attacked.

I kinda ignored them after that. Probably another street gang attacking this one for being on their 'territroy'. After all, they mark their territory with graffitti like dogs do with pee. Besides, I wasn't so sure that I could lift my head. I didn't exactly have full mobility with my right arm, all the skin was still taught and painful from the burns. I was beginning to just not care anymore. My vision fuzzed and I knew I was blacking out. For a moment I tried to fight it but then I figured 'what the hell.' What's the friggin use. I can't get up. A husk of a man...

The fight continued around me, but it was relatively brief. I waited groggily for the blows to come again from this new gang, but none came. For a moment I thought that maybe they would leave me for dead. That would be different. As long as they don't drag me off and chop off my other leg.

Instead I felt them hover around me. I tried to move, but pain shot through me all the way to the stump on my right leg. I bit my tongue to keep from crying out. I tasted blood. I don't care.

"What are we going to do, Leo? We can't just leave him here."

Leo? Who the Hell was Leo?

"You know, I'd hate to admit it but I think he's right. Look at his crutches, he wasn't in good condition even _before _the Purple Dragons got to him."

"What about the hospital?"

"Hell no! Haveyou seen the place? There was some freaking bus that crashed and the ERis swamped."

"Your right, we better take him home. He needs help _now_."

With that they moved in and gently grabbed me. The pain shot through my body and I automatically arched my back, gritting my teeth to keep from crying out. The sudden movement must've caught one of them off guard. He tripped...and accidently stepped right on my right leg. It was too much.

I blacked out.

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A/N: I hope that I didn't dissappoint anyone with that chapter. Please submit your reviews. Especially on wether or not I should continue. I'll repeat that this isn't a war issue, it is about a soldier out on his luck.

If you know me at all, you'll know that I welcome any questions you have, any predictions or hopeful predictions you'd like to make, plus any and all opinions and comments. Of course, these things can't be done without a review, so REVIEW people!

Toodles!


	2. Captured by Aliens

Disclaimer: I don't own the TMNT

**Warning: Sensitive Issue **

A/N: I had asked my reviewers from my other fic 'Expecting' about this story before I even started and they gave me the OK pretty much. One thingthat I told them I would tell is the facts. Of last chapter; I personally know someone with the ear, the eye, andI've met someone with the burns. I researched about the amputations and from what I foundmy character really did get off easy with that. I have done research on many other aspects of this story so that I could be as accurate as possible. Keep in mind that these injuries happen to both soldiers and to people in the Middle East. Adults and children. I encourage you to do some research of your own. It can be an eye opener.

**Jessiy Landroz**: Thank you so much for reviewing. I appreciate the heads up warning system you said about 'sensitive issues.' Don't worry, he has a name. It just managed to slip by me in the first chapter until I had already posted it. And also not all the stories are gory. There are quite a few stories that I know that are amusing, even cute. **Reijiro**: I appreciate that. You'recompletely right about that human nature thing. We'll never get overthat so we just have to make due and try to fix what we can. **Sailor Vegeta**: Yes, it will be amusing to see what happens when he meets the turtles (hey, that's this chapter!) Review again! **greshunkai**: No, thank YOU for reviewing. I can't tell you how nervous I was about actually posting this story! I need all the support I can get! **Dierdre**: Thank you so much for the compliments! **engelina**: Thank you. Don't worry, his luck will change eventually. After all, he's with the TMNT now! **Leo Oneal**: thank you so so much for reviewing. Your request has been granted, he's meeting the guys!

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Chapter 2 

Captured by Aliens

_Smoke clogged my nostrils. The smell of burning flesh and hair was thick in the air making me gag unconsciously. I tried to move, but something held me down. My right leg was stuck on something. It didn't hurt. I knew it was supposed to hurt. I panicked. It wasn't supposed to be this way._

_Suddenly I realized that I was the only one moving. I certainly wasn't in this truck by myself, what about the others? I couldn't see the people in the back, but what about the passenger seat? Suddenly terror siezed my throat as I remembered exactly who that was._

_"Johnny? JOHN!"_

_My friend, my companion, my buddy. My mentor. He was shorter, an entire foot shorter. We were together in our first dut station, then we got sent here together. We spent half the time playing jokes on each other, making time pass more bearably. All the other times we just sat, watching the beautiful Iraqi sunset. He was only about ten years older than me, yet somehow he had taken the place of the father that I never had..._

_I saw him. He hadn't moved. He was still right next to me, but his eyes weren't blinking. A slow trickle of blood made it's trail across his skin. It reached his eye, yet he didn't flinch. He just stared at me with unblinking eyes. I knew in my gut what it was but my brain refused to cooperate. Why wasn't he blinking? He's supposed to be blinking!_

_Hurriedly I reached for him, stroking his cheek with my left hand. Strange that it would be so cold when it was so hot. Why was the truck upside down? _

_I didn't think. I searched for my pack in desperation. "Don't worry John. I've done this before, this is what they trained me for, that's what you always tell me, isn't it? A medic's job is never done, remember all the stuff you taught me..." Something caught in my throat. Must be the smoke. It was getting in my eyes too, making them water. Why else would they water? That's the only excuse for watering eyes after all...it must be responsible for the knot in my throat as well._

_I couldn't find my pack. A strangled sob reached my throat. I failed him. I reached for him with both hands. It was then that I saw the flames dancing on my right arm._

_

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_

My eyes jerked awake. Cold sweat displaced the intense heat broiling in my gut. Slowly I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, taking a chapter of the deep breathing excercises that I learned from a volunteer at the hospital. It seemed silly at first, but it always helped me after Iwoke up from another dream. I should've stuck with what I said earlier. No one needs sleep. Dreams are for wussies.

Wait a second, where the hell was I?

First thing that I noticed was that everything hurt like hell. Especially my right leg. It throbbed so painfully that I was surprised that I wasn't swinging back and forth in the bed with the momentum of the thing. I gritted my teeth hard, refusing to make any sound of pain. Slowly my body became somewhat accustomed to it, and I released the breath I held. Accustomed. Sounds like Iraq and the hospital all over again.

It was then that I realized that the pain in my stump wasn't nearly as bad as it should've been. I eased myself to my elbows to have a look, gritting my teeth at the newfound pains that were eager to make themselves known at the motion. Man, must've broken at _least_ a couple ribs. Probably cracked the rest of them!

I was covered in an old, but soft blanket. It was then that I realized that I was in a strange place. I was basically on a mattress that was resting on the floor. The room was realatively small and somewhat dingy, as though the dirt was helping to hold the place together. And it smelled like that too. Like a sewer kinda. I've seen plenty of places like that...The walls were adorned with simple pictures of Japanese landscapes, and caligraphy. There were bookcases loaded with books up to the yin yang. The wierdest thing were the titles. Some were in what I could only guess to be Japanese. Others said things like: The Art of Swordmaking, History of the Samurai, History of the Ninja, Martial Arts Moves and How to Employ them, Assorted Japanese Weapons and their Uses, and stuff like that. A small weapons rack was against the far wall. Small and long swords, some spears, and other hard pointy objects were neatly stacked on it, all of them glistening with polished precision. A low table was in the middle of the room with pillows, obviously meant for sitting. Old fashioned cups without any handles were set on the table with a worn looking teapot, all obviously long forgotten.

Great. I was captured by akarate freak.

It was about then that my leg let me know exactly the purpose of me propping myself up like that. Taking a moment to balance myself on one elbow, I reached across with my other hand and tugged off the blanket. What I saw surprised me. This karate freak was a nice one.

A cool compress was on my stump, held on with someguaze and paper tape. That was probablywhy it didn't hurt as much as it should have. I could see the redness peeking out from the edges of the compress. I wanted to see what it looked like but was loathe to touch it, both because I knew it hurt like hell and also because that compress felt rather nice and I didn't really want to move it. They should do more of those at the hospital. My other leg had taken a beating as well. Red and purple bruises swelled up as though someone was trying to push golf balls through my skin. I knew what those would feel like as well. Then my eyes traveled up and I realized something else (yeah, I know, I'm slow today. Who can blame me?) I was dressed in nothing but my boxer shorts.

This is both peculiar and irritating. It reminded me of when I was put under for some procedure at the hospital and woke up in a different hospital gown than I fell asleep in. Its freaking annoying. This was also peculiar because I didn'tknow who the hell decided to undress me, I didn't know how much they looked; for all I know they could be perverts!

I got over my irritation rather quickly, considering the obvious reason I was undressed in the first place. Because the rest of me didn't look any better than my 11/2 legs. My right side would never look pretty, but it looked even worse. It always had that mottled look, like someone poured multicolored wax on my skin and then stirred it up to a hideous paste. The scarring started at the point of my right hip and slowl spread up until it was encompassing my entire right peck and arm. It continued up the middle until it reached my adams apple, then narrowed to a point at my ear. I was understandably a bit self conscious about it.I still haven't dared go in a swimming pool, in fact no one has seen my chest other than hospital workers and it unnerved me that someone else now knew how ugly I looked.

Now the bumpy flesh was covered in darker bruises more colorful than it's original scarred appearance. Places here and there had obviously cracked or split, because bandages covered them. That happens sometimes if your not careful with freshly healed burns. Funny, I thought that I'd gotten over them. A large bandage was swathed around my entire chest. It was a bit tight. I knew that this was probably for the broken ribs, helping to hold them in place a little. Don't want me to move wrong and puncture a lung.

I obviously couldn't see my face, but one light, yet very painful touch told me it probably wasn't a pretty sight.

Overall, the patchwork was pretty good. I've done just the same for my soldiers on the battlefield and in the MASH.

But I wasn't about to just lie here, either.

Quickly I searched around the room once more. My prosthesis was nowhere in sight. Was probably busted beyond repair anyway. Then I spied my crutches. They were propped up on the far wall in a corner next to the weapons right, with my rugsack at their foot. Might of well been on the moon for all I could reach them.

Immediately I contemplated a way that I could somehow reach them without screaming like a girl (gotta have a sense of humor, right?) My thoughts were interrupted.

"Do you think he's all right, Don?"

I was on edge in an instant. Who was Don? Don like _the_ Don? Wasn't that some sort of foreign lingo for the leader or something? I peered at the thin door, where the voices emanated.

"I'm pretty sure that he will, Mikey, though it's hard to say at this point. I won't promise anything."

"We can keep him until he gets all better, right?"

"Mikey, Raph and Leo says that he's military. They found his dogtags around his neck, remember? That means that someone will definetly be missing him. And trust me, we don't want to get involved with the federal government."

There was a silence. I was puzzled. Dogtags? It was then that I realized that they were the only other thing that I was wearing besides my boxers. When you wear something all the time, you don't even realized that they're there anymore...Then another voice popped in, one that was obviously eavsdropping in on the conversation as I had been.

"Remember, Don, we don't want him to see us since he's involved with the federal government like that. What did you give him?"

This one sounded more authoritative. Like he was used to being heard and obeyed. Reminded me of some of my NCO's...

"Oh, just a mild tranquilizer. He should be asleep for at least a few more hours. I'll give him another dose before he wakes up."

I couldn't help but grin. Little did he know that I had a very high drug tolerance. It drove the nurses in the hospital bonkers when I asked them for stronger stuff 'cause the stuff they gave me just wasn't cutting it.

"Well, let's just check on him real quick..."

"Can I come too!"

The two voices in unison blandly answered "Yes Mikey."

Wait...they were coming in? The gangsters? Or were they gangsters? Oh, who the hell cares. I steeled myself to meet them. I only wished that I didn't have to meet the ones who helped me while confined to a freaking bed.

The doorknob jiggled, then it slowly opened.

What I saw completely blew my mind.

My jaw slaked open, and my eyeballs bulged despite the fact that I could only see out of one of them. My entire body froze in complete shock. I just couldn't freaking believe it.

I was in the care of aliens.

All theree of them froze when they saw me staring at them. At first they didn't move, as though unsure what to do. Nervously they looked at each other. And they had every right, because they really did look bizarre.

Thier heads were kinda blockish, with beaks instead of noses and brown eyes. They all wore some type of scarf around their heads with eyeholes punched through them. I have no idea if the color scheme was important, but one was orange, the other blue, and a purple. All three of them had three fingers, and two toes, as though their original digits fused together to form the green sausages that they had. They had what appeared to be turtle shells on their backs, with that yellow stuff that turtles had in the front. What was it called? Plasticon, plaston, aw hell with it. They were well muscled, their cords moving beneath their skin like dolphins under the waves. Their skin was green, as are nearly all TV aliens, with freckles and spots here and there. What I certainly saw was thier weapons, which were held in place by leather belts around their waist, er, shells, er, whatever. I especially noticed the blue ones double swords.

The orange one hopped up first, with what I could only describe as a grin plastered across his face. He jumped up closer towards me and cirped a "Hey, dude! How's it goin?" in a strong California accent.

I can hardly describe to you what it might feel like, being presented with such unusual being and letting common sense tell you that these must be the ones that were caring for you. It's like you just stepped into the wacky world of some popular science fiction show where aliens co-habiting with humans were the norm. But when one of them hops up in your face, well you tend to react.

"ACK!" I scrambled away from him, ignoring the sudden spikes of pain shooting all over my body. It was...it was...what was it? Aliens? Monsters? Freaks? Mutants? He gave me a perplexed look, then the thing leaned in closer. My scrambling continued with frantic haste...until I managed to scramble off the mattress.

My body thumped on the floor _hard_, jarring my entire body. For the second time in the past two minutes I was speechless in the complete shock of the new waves of pain. I clenched my teeth and squeezed my eyes shut and groaned in agony.

"Hey dude, you all right?"

Shit, this can't be happening. Why is this happening?

It was then that the other two moved. The blue one responded by reaching over and yanking on the orange one's headband. He fell back with a yelp and whined while clutching his head. "Aw, Leo! What did you do that for!" He whimpered.

The purple one shook his head. "Mikey, you seriously need to stop doing that. One of these humans is going to punch your lights out one day."

So they had names. And they weren't human. What did I get myself into?

'Don' looked over at me and smiled. He crouched down to my level but didn't make any move to come closer to me. Instead he just spoke. "Listen, I'm sorry for bonehead over there. I know that our appearance may be striking to you right now, but trust me when I say that we mean you no harm. In fact, the reason that we brought you over here was to help you. You were pretty badly hurt, and you needed immediate medical attention. But please trust me when I say that we mean you no harm."

Damn. He sure was polite and really sounded 'educated' for a green-shelled-humanoid-thingie. Well, if he was educated, then maybe he could answer questions. How bizarre, yesterday at the same time I never would've thought that I'd be talking to - whatever.

"What are you?" I said it real slow, not really meaning to. It's just that when you see something that's not human making speech you automatically expect-hell. I hope I didn't offend it.

But he took no offense. The blue one, 'Leo' answered this time. "We're turtles." Ah. That explains the shells."Regular turtles that were mutated into what we are, many years ago." He might be speaking to me, but he obviously gave no inclination of trusting me quite yet. This must be the 'leader.' Come to think of it, I'd be freaked out too. They obviously live away from human eyes. Bringing a human down, especially one with military affiliations would put me on edge too. I may not like it, but I don't really blame the blue boy.

"Hey! Why the Hell you been in there so long!"

A gruff voice came from outside the door. When it banged open once again I could see another turtle. This one wearing red.

"Shit! How many are you!"

Leo looked at the red turtle with an annoyed look on his face. "This is it. No more turtles."

"We do have a rat!" Mikey piped up.

"A-who!"

"Guesheunteight!"

I rolled my eyes and ignored him. By now 'Don' was approaching me slowly, as though I was a frightened animal he was afraid of scaring off. Which technically I was, if you think about it. I knew from experience that I can still pack a punch even when I'm down. He gently grabbed my arms, offering support so that I could get back on the mattress. Mikey scrambled over to help him but Don stopped him with a glare.

"No, Mikey. You've had too much sugar today." He pouted but didn't retaliate.

The red turtle and Leo seemed to be in a heated argument. Their voices were lowered so I couldn't make out everything but I could tell that they were pissed. I looked at Don. "What's wrong with them?"

He shrugged without even glancing at them "Oh, don't pay them any mind. They do it all the time."

Their argument was becoming a bit more heated. Couple that with Mike talking to no one in particular and the fact that a mutatnt turtle was helping me into a bed, well, let's say I was about ready to flip my lid.

This still seemed to bizarre to believe. I wasn't sure quite how I was taking it even now. As Don helped me shift back on the mattress, the red one suddenly separated from Leo and stomped towards the door.

He didn't make it all the way out.

"Raphael! Calm down." An ancient sounding, somewhat scratchy voice said.

The reaction was nothing short of miraculous. The red one, er, Raphael, immediately assumed a more demure position, his head slightly bowed and his arms at his sides. I could see that he was still tense and was still pissed off but at least he had calmed down. I hadn't seen that kind of discipline since the Army.

What I saw next must've been what Mikey was talking about. It was a three foot rat.

It's head was about the size of a german shepard's, and to tell you the truth looked kinda similar. I could tell immediately that this one was up there in years; it's furr was somewhat scruffy and turning gray here and there. The ears, er, ear was rough looking, and his whiskers drooped. The rat walked with the aid of a walking stick and was somewhat haunched over. Unlike the turtles, this one wore clothes. A simple robe, a bit moth eaten, covered it's torsoe.

The moment it walked into the room Mikey piped up. "Master Splinter! He woke up! Soldier dude woke up!"

The rat, uh, Master Splinter answered with practiced patience. "Yes, Michelangelo, I can see that." He continued his progression into the room. The turtles moved aside to allow him passage. He approached me and smiled. "Although, I can guess that your name isn't actually, 'soldier dude,' now is it?"

I was willing to be a bit ballsy with the turtles, give them some lip, retaliate if necessary. But this one, this one seemed to demand immediate respect without ever really meaning to. He was just so used to it that it flowed to him naturally. The kind that got respect because he gave it as well to those deserving. He smiled again, and although I must honestly say that I was substantially freaked out by this whole thing, I smiled back; if a bit weakly.

"If your dogtags are correct, you are a Joseph Ransom." He said with utter kindness.

I nodded dumbly, shock still setting in. "Uh huh."

"And I am quite sure that you have a few questions that need answering."

No shit. "Uh, yes sir."

He warmed me with another one of those smiles. "Well now, let us begin..."

* * *

A/N: Here's the end. As per the usual, I think that I might've gone a little too slow with this chapter, maybe had it a little boring. Please prove me wrong. That's usually what happens with most of my stories anyway. I tried to go at a faster pace but the words just poured out of me like this, and I feel disinclined to change it despite my opinion. Well, despite that I hope that you enjoyed the chapter. Next chapter I should start to get the ball rolling, I'll also reveal a little bit of stuff about him and Emily (this is important in the storyline.) That's enough! I'm jabbering. Well, let me know what you think. Remember, if you Read it, Review it! Toodles! 


	3. Green Team

Disclaimer: I don't own the TMNT

A/N: I had recieved word that putting review responses at the beginning of the chapter is illegal in this website, and then they let me know about review responses! (idiot, I know) Hope that you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter 3

Green Team

* * *

You know when you are buying something at the store and you see some issue of the National Inquirer? I'm one of those people who flip through it and put it back without buying it just to see what kind of ridiculous stuff they can come up with. 

That's kinda how I felt at the moment.

Four human sized green talking 'ninja' turtles just had their situation explained to me by a three foot talking rat named Splinterwho taught them 'ninjitsu' and is also their father (not related, of course). Just as bizzare is that each of them are unique. I've already figured the one called Michelangelo as a clown, Donatello as the smart guy, Raphael as a hothead, and Leonardo as the Leader. Not only that but they're all teenagers.

I have to admit, I was pretty much silent during pretty much the whole story. It's because I was just a teeny bit freaked out. Yeah. Who wouldn't? I heard and understood every word that he said, don't get me wrong. And yes I believed it. I mean, after seeing these guys you were willing to hear _any_ story about how they came to be, right? Well, from what they said it sounded plausible.

Of course I had questions, questions that Splinter wouldn't answer just yet. How did he know ninjitsu? 'All would be answered in due time' was all he said. I understood. Sure, I need an explanation, but that doesn't mean that he has to spill his life story to a perfect stranger, especially one who was a potential threat to their well being.

They made that abundantly clear with his first question.

"Joseph," I eyed the rat warily. He smiled warmly, though the look in his eyes was dead serious. "I need to ask you that you not mention our existence to anyone."

My eyes widened despite the fact that it made perfect sense. Of course they wouldn't want anyone to know! I knew my answer before I said it. "Yes."

"How do we know that we can believe you?" This gruff question came from the red turtle, Raphael, who'd been eyeing me suspiciously throughout the explanation.

I stared him right in the eyes. He stared right back and glowered. His mood hadn't improved ever since his fight with Leonardo apparently. "I swear on my honor."

Apparently this was the right thing to say because everyone diffused like a fat lady sitting on a whoopie cushion. I wondered exactly what it was that I said to make them relax automatically like that but I suppose that it didn't really matter. As long as they're calm.

I shifted myself in the mattress and winced.

Immediately Don stood up. "Alright, it's been 24 hours since I last changed the dressings so I need everyone out." Everyone started complaining immediately.

"Awwwwww! But I wanna talk with him!" Mikey leaned past his brother to look at me with a grin. "You good at video games?"

Raphael seemed all too happy to get out at the moment while Leonardo thought that we should continue the questioning.

Splinter disagreed."No, he is fine for the moment. Let us give him some privacy." He peered at me. "I hope to see you again soon, it was pleasant talking to you."

With that they were out.

Donatello had arrived with a heavy duffel bag and when he opened it I saw that it was filled with any medic's paradise. Guaze, wrappings, 5 different kinds of tape, syringes, needles, catheters, vials, tubes, you name it. I peered at the turtle as he was obviously preoccupied with his rummagings. "Where'd you get all that stuff?"

He seemed startled by the question, like he forgot where he was, then he looked at me and gave a shy grin. "Here and there. Half of it's stolen, honestly. But when it comes down to that I always do research and take from a facility that's over-stocked in whatever I'm looking for. Other than that..." he shrugged. "Half the thugs that we bap on a daily basis carry stuff like this. Most of them are used for drug paraphanelia, of course, but naturally I only use the untouched items and properly dispose of the others in adequate sharps containers. Wouldn't want anyone to be spreading AIDS or something like that from reusing needles, after all."

Suddenly he glanced at me and I was surprised to see a slight blush rise in is cheeks. "Sorry, sometimes I do that. I ramble on and on about stuff. It's like I forget that I'm the only one interested."

I couldn't help but grin. "Well, you're wrong there! I was a medic in the Army before I, uh, ran into some trouble overseas."

If I'd of shown him the true meaning of life I couldn't have brightened his face up any more than it did right now. "Well _really,_ is that so?" Snatching all his needed supplies out of his bag he scooted over to me, his features still alight. He was like a kid at Christmas. "What kind of training did you do? What kind of experience did you get? Were you able to help out on any interesting procedures? What did you do on a normal basis?"

My grin grew wider. Don noticed and blushed again, looking down slightly. He opened his mouth, I presumed to apologize but I stopped him. "Naw, it's alright. I have no problem with, uh, most questions. Let's see here," I leaned back as Don checked the smaller bandages on my side and my face. He was probably saving my leg for last. I let myself relax in the meantime; I hadn't feltlike this inat least a couple years! "My training was basic, bare minimum. I mean, we were capable of doing most lifesaving procedures but other than that most of the training that _really_ counted was on the job stuff. And the experiences, oh man, I could pair that up with 'interesting procedures' any day."

"Really!" He looked at me, his eyes dancing with curiosity. If my grin got any bigger it'd cleave my face in half.

"For example, there was one case where some guy got drunk so he decided to attach a scuba tank with a pick ax." I chuckled. "He was all right, but not only did he have to geta cast on for a number of months, he also had to have a metal rod inserted into his femur because of the damage that it di there. And he's going to need a knee replacement sooner than most people."

Don gave a grin of his own. I snickered. This got him going and then before I knew it we were both chuckling. It was that amusement that you see on cartoons, where someone gets hurt and you find it funny. Medical personnel use it a lot. I guess that it's sort of a diffuser so that you don't explode with everything that you see on a daily basis. I know how long it took to get over my first death, and laughter helped me with that.

"Where did you get these injuries? Was it overseas?" He said as he squirted one of the deeper gashes with a sterile saline solution and then bathed it in a little betadine.

I froze at his friendly inquiry. He was using the same tactic that I'd used many times, get the patient distracted with talking so he wouldn't notice the treatment as much. Suddenly he noticed my silence and his face fell.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean about...well you don't have to tell if you don't..."

"It's alright." That was all I said on the subject.

For a moment there was an awkward silence, then Don moved to my leg. I winced as he eased the compress off the stump, but I didn't make a sound. Don looked at the stump and clucked his tongue.

"What is it?"

"Your, uh, leg still has those adhesions on it from where your prosthesis stabbed into it. Plus, you're forming a blister on the outer edges." He looked at me. "Whoever rounded off the bone and the tissue did a good job, but what I just can't understand is why they gave you such a poor prosthesis."

I cleared my throat. "Yeah, he was one of the top surgeons at the military hospital. It helped a lot when the medical personnel gave such good care to it after I, uh, lost it in Iraq. The prosthesis thing...well that's more my fault than anyone elses."

He looked surprised. "Your fault?"

I squirmed a bit. We were getting onto a touchy subject. "Yeah. I was kinda in a rush and left before they could properly fit me for a sturdier one."

"Why were you in a rush?"

Damn. I knew he was going to ask that. I sighed. Might as well, "I was in a rush so that I could see my fiance."

He blew air out of his mouth, and then turned to get some more cleaning solutions. "We need to get you out of here, then. She'll be missing you."

"Yeah, I'm sure she will eventually."

He looked suspicious but continued. "How long have you been looking for her?"

I shifted, ignoring the dull thudding of pain. This turtle's numbing creams were working nicely. "If you include the time that I lost her, er she dissappeared, then about a year."

I could tell he didn't quite believe it, but that's all that I was willing to say at the moment. My dear Emily...Instead of prying, though, he just continued off of another branch of conversation. I was grateful.

"So, how's your family?"

I shook my head. "None to speak of, really. I was raised in an orphanage."

"Oh, I'm sorry!"

"Don't be! They treated us well."

He started to finish his patch up job. "Any friends?" I just coughed and looked away. "Other relatives?" I shook my head. He sighed. "I know that this will sound mean and selfish, but anyone who might have missed you while you were here?"

I shook my head again. "Nope."

He looked at me oddly (or at least I think it was odd for his turtle face) and quickly started to finish up.

I looked at him. "What was your brother so upset about?"

Don grinned. "Oh, you mean Raph? Well, a week ago Leo went snooping in his room and found a small stash of, ah,'questionable'magazines. Of course Raph got in trouble, but ever since then Leo has been looking over his shoulder, or, ah, being _careful_ around him. Raph does have a tendency to hold a grudge, and, well, Leo's actions haven't really been helping to cool it." He shrugged. "They've basically been at each other's throats all week. I'm just waiting for them to get in a fight, then after the chaos is over, things will finally calm down. That's how it usually goes."

I nodded and grinned. "I knew a couple of boys like that in my home town."

"Where's that?"

"Colorado Springs."

He nodded and then smiled at me, but looked at me with all seriousness. "Well, what do you want to do?"

I knew what he was talking about. Was I going to stay here for a while? It's not like I really had anywhere to go. And I was looking in New York for Emily...my mind knew the truth. Se didn't want me to find her. Otherwise her parents, her sister, and both her brothers wouldn't have turned me away at their door. My mind knew this...but my heart didn't. I know that it sounds cheesy and gullible, but she was my only love. It's not like I can give that up.

But it's not like I can take a break from looking, either. It's not like I had any real belongings to worry about. Pretty much everything of value I had was in that pack. I had money in the bank, and more coming bi-monthly from the military. I lived incredibly cheap, pretty much at poverty line. But the reason for that was because I had unconsciously chose to. I had done something to betray Emily. I knew it, it must be my fault. I don't know what it was, I loved her for all I was worth but it _must_ be my fault, right? Basically I was punishing myself by not caring. I really didn't care.

There was something about these guys. Don't get me wrong, they were wierd. (Yeah, what was your first clue?) But there was _definetly_ something about them. I knew what it was, whether it was consciously or unconsciously...

They were a family. They might have their quirks, that much was obvious, and they might have their problems but I could already tell that they were a close knit family that would do anything for each other. The reason that I could tell was that I never experienced one myself. 'Sometimes you have to experience the darkness before you can appreciate the sunshine', that was what John had told me. And it was true.

Not only that, but they were the only one's that I've met so far this trip that cared. I mean _truly_ cared. It wasn't a 'Aw, you were injured in Iraq! Poor little thing!' Trust me, if you're not used to recieving it, kindness sprung from pure sympathy and no true caring can get extremely wearing. These, people, who were cast off from society were the type of family that you saw on TV shows.

I knew my answer before I said a word.

I think that Don did too.

He just smiled. "We're having dinner in a half-hour, if you're interested. Just call if you need any help."

I nooded and grinned. It made no sense whatsoever. Anyone who would see this would probably think that I'd gone off my rocker, but the decision was made. I was going to spend some time with a family of mutant turtles and a rat.

* * *

A/N: Everyone will probably beat me, but I hope that you enjoyed that chapter. Hope that the ending wasn't too unbelievable or cheesy. I wanted it to be kind of spontaneous. Hope that I achieved that effect.

Remember, if you Read it, Review it!

Toodles!


	4. Home Cooked Meal

Disclaimer: I don't own the TMNT

A/N:

Chapter 4

Home Cooked Meal

* * *

The breath blew out of my nostrils as I took a second to relax. After three quick pants I gritted my teeth and tried again. 

Heaving with my arms, I slowly lifted myself up to the crutches. Slowly I worked myself into the proper positioning, being kinda gangly on the thin crutches limbs. I rested for another moment, my armpits putting my weight against the top of the crutch. Feeling that that was enough rest I finally pulled myself into a more comfortable position.

"You all right?"

I looked up and grinned at Donatello. He was in here helping me up. I don't know if I could've made it all the way to the crutches, which were propped up on the other side of the room, so he brought them to me. He also fixed my pants, er, lack thereof. It figures that during the fight with the gang members, well I guess that my legs took a bigger beating than I thought. Most of the legs of my pants would have been pointless to remain, they were so full of holes, rips and tears that they would have been a bigger hindrance than a help. Don had to cut them, making them into a makeshift pair of shorts. I didn't mind, except the fact that my stump would be showing, but for some reason I didn't feel as uncomfortable about that around these guys as I normally am.

That attitude really helped me out, because the only shirts they had were some left in their lair by a man named 'Casey.' This guy apparently loved his muscle shirts which is just fine, only that it showed my scarred arm to it's full hideous glory. I'd never go out in public like this but with these guys...it was alright.

"You really shouldn't excert yourself like that, you know." He was leaning over me like a mother hen.

"Yes, mother."

He made a face at me and I grinned. Maybe it was because he was the one who treated my injuries and that we share the same medical interest, I was most comfortable around Donatello than the others. He hated that I refused help in getting to my crutches. He reminded me of a nurse (yes, there are male nurses and no they're not gay or fruity or anything!) I remember that at the military hospital the nurses would call me an example of 'stupid male macho-ism!' They were great.

Donatello walked across the room and opened the door for me, grinning. "At least I can do _this_ for you!"

I just chuckled at him and moved across the floor, pendulum style with my legs swinging at once while being supported by the crutches. A lot of people make the mistake that you are supported on the portion that your armpit touches, but that isn't true. Yes, it should come close to the armpits for when you need to shift or something, but other than that you support your weight on your hands that are gripping the center handle.

I know, blah blah blah. I'll shut up now.

Once I went through the door, I couldn't believe it. Their home was huge. There were two stories, luckily I was on a ground floor. The entire room was circular, the second story being accentuated by a walkway and supported by pillars. Strange crystals jutted out here and there. There was a pool in the middle that Don said led to the river with a small arch bridge over it. In one area was the entertainment center, with a patched up couch, laun chairs, and probably about twenty repaired TV's stacked on each other. In another was a broken railcar that was obviously transformed into a makeshift lab. Then there was a more formal looking area in front of what I could only guess by the ricepaper doors to be Splinter's room. There was what looked like a workout area and another room that I surmised to be the much talked-about dojo.

Then there was the table, which was already being set. Raphael and Splinter were already sitting at the table with Leonardo setting out the dishes. "Where's Michelangelo?" I asked Don.

"Finishing up dinner."

Remembering how he acted in the room earlier I grinned at the thought about the 'class clown' making edible food. Still grinning, I stopped in my tracks and mad a 'show' about turning around, pretending to have a sore stomach. Don laughed and gently pulled on my arm.

"Aw, c'mon! He's not that bad once you get to know him! And none of us have died eating his cooking yet! Then again, today..."

Chuckling I had just made it to the table when Mikey came out of the kitchen, plates stacked with food were lined from hand to hand, over his arms and across his shoulders. Despite his cheeky grin, his eyes were lit with concentration as he walked to the table, balancing all the plates, food and cutlery. With a merry chuckle, he tossed them all in the air with a 'HA!'

I couldn't help but cover my eyes. I wasn't in the mood for food all over me! Then I heard the resounding 'click' of plate hitting wood. Daring to peek betwen my fingers I saw that each plate was sitting neatly in front of everyone with the main dish bowls laying unbroken and unspilled in the center of the table.

Raphael guffawed laughter and clapped his hands as Michelangelo bowed theatrically, saying 'thank you, thank you!'

Leonardo made a face. "I wish you wouldn't do that every time we have a guest at the table."

Mike looked hurt. "What, you don't want me to show off Master Splinter's superb ninja training? Leonardo! And here I thought you cared!"

I hid a chuckle as Leo was taken aback. His mouth worked at what to say, then with a slight pout he turned away muttering. "Of course I care! Just not so...so...flamboyantly."

The moment he sat down he and Raphael began to tear into their food as if it was going to dissappear within seconds if they didn't eat it in time. Leo wasted no time in raising complaint, trying to tell them about table manners. Don immediately just sighed in defeat and slowly ate his food; with the use of utensils unlike his brothers. Splinter glared at all of them, trying to ignore him. But his patience seemed to be thin at the moment. Finally his tail thwapped against the floor and he huffed "Enough!"

Without a second's hesitation everyone froze and stared in his direction. Once again, I must comment on the discipline of these folks! Looking at me, he said "I apologize for my sons _rude behavior_" he glared in their direction. Everyone shrank in their seats. " with a guest at the table." he finished. "I have been trying to break them of the habit ever since we stayed at a friends apartment several years ago." with that he added with resignation "I'm afraid that they still have a lot to learn." The turtles grinned shyly.

I grinned. "That's alright! You should see how chaotic it gets at the boarding house, or at boot camp! Trust me, when you are real hungry and only have fifteen minutes to serve yourself, sit down and eat _that's_ when things really get messy!"

Mikey chuckled and Raphael smirked. "You enjoyed it though. I can tell by your voice."

I nodded. "Yeah. You form a lot of tight bonds like that." I remembered boot camp well. Being locked in a room with about fifty other men...well, you get kinda close to each other. I grinned at a thought. "You know we had communal showers," I began "and understandably it was kinda crowded when we took them because we had a time limit on how long the showers were open. So it was packed with wet, naked men." All the turtles grimaced. I smiled. "Men being men, we liked to, uh, not touch, er that is 'brush' up against anyone. Whenever we went to the place in the showers where we changed to the showers themselves, we'd scrunch up ourselves real tight to avoid touching everyone while singing a song with the tune of the wizard of oz." The looks that they gave me almost made me burst out laughing. "Don't worry, the only verse was 'Naked man, coming through! Don't touch me and I won't touch you!"

That brought snickers out of them, though I could see more than one shift in their seat uncomfortably. Luckily, someone broke that.

Leaning forward eagerly Mikey grinned, tidbits of food spilling out of his mouth. "So, did you blow anything up! Huh? Didja didja! Big boom?"

"Nope. I wasn't in that field. Not my job." I was enjoying myself very much.

From the look on his face Leo didn't seem to think that explosions were the right kind of table talk. Couple that with the bathroom story earlier...When Mikey opened his mouth to ask another question he interrupted. "How are you feeling, Joseph?"

"Alright."

Don perked up. "We're planning on fitting him for another prosthesis tomorrow!"

I swallowed another mouthful of food, nodding towards Donny. "Yup. He said that he's studied up on the subject before and apparently, coupled with his knowledge of mechanics he's confident that he can come up with another one."

"So you've decided to stay, Mr. Ransom?" Splinter inquired.

I nodded. "As long as it's alright with you guys, I sure as hel-" I stopped and looked at Splinter. He didn't seem like the type to accept swear words. "Um. I sure would appreaciate it!" He smiled warmly, shaking his head slightly.

Raphael shoveled a big spoonful of food into his mouth and looked at me. "So what're you in New York for anyway?" He spoke through mouthfuls of food.

"Just looking for someone."

"Emily?"

My gaze swung at the speaker. Mikey shrank under everyone's stares. Twiddling his fingers nervously he shrugged. "What? You were saying it in you're sleep!"

All eyes were on me and I sighed in resignation. After all, I knew that the question was coming."Yeah. Her."

"What is she to you?"

"My fiance. Er, actually, my former fiance."

Leonardo eyeballed me. "Former? What happened?"

Before I had a chance to answer Splinter came to my rescue. "I believe that Mr. Ransom wishes to continue this discussion at a later time." Turning to me he smiled. "Mr. Ransom, please, tell us what you do in the armed services?"

Grateful to be on a change of subject, I smiled. "I was a medic."

Raphael laughed. Smirking, he said "Man! Now I know why Donny was in there so long! Leatherhead and April can talk science with him, but I haven't seen anyone talk 'doc' with him! Hm!"

Mikey slapped the table, this time taking a second to fast forward his chewing and swallow. "Ah! _Now_ I see why you don't 'do' explosions!"

I grinned. "Well, I've treated some pretty unusual cases!" When I looked up every teenage eye in the room was trained on me, expecting a story. Ah, well, if I don't appease them they might turn into a mob! I opted for a more funny story. "Alright. When I was in the Middle East, I was working in the MASH."

"I know that TV show!" Mikey quipped in.

Raphael elbowed him hard. Whining a complaint Mikey pouted at him. "It's not just a TV show, bonehead! It stands for Mobile Army, uh, Surgical...Hospital?" He lost himself in his own explanation, forgetting what it was exactly. His expression was priceless.

Don chuckled at him. "Don't worry, Raph. We're proud of you either way."

I continued. "To start the story off, just know that a lot of people over there smoke. I've given kids rides and they've asked me for a light. Well, with this kid he must've been around 15 or so. He decides to siphon some gasoline out of a vehicle, then afterwards he lights up a cigarrette." The turtles sitting at the table made faces, all picturing in their minds what must've happened. I grinned. "Well, anyway we get this kid into the hospital..."

"You see the natives medically as well?" Leo interrupted.

"Yeah. We see everyone. The natives...they can't help it if their country is at war. They're innocents. A lot of people don't understand that completely."

Splinter nodded solemly. "Yes, Mr. Ransom. I've seen cases of predjeduce against the middle east and the Islamic here in America. People need to realize that when a small group of people act uncivily that doesn't neccessarily mean that they represented a whole."

The table was silent for a moment, then Don looked at me. "He was alright, right?"

I swallowed down a mouthful of food, nodding. "Oh yeah. He just got caught in the heat, not the actual flames. His face was black when we got him in, but it was mostly ash. He was very mildly burned. Kinda like a really bad sunburn."

"Ouch!" Mikey twisted in his seat, grimacing. "That must really hurt!"

I chuckled. "Yeah. He was pretty darn lucky. I saw a lot worse when I had to go out into the field with the company."

By this time, there wasn't a scrap of food left on the table. Splinter somehow got Leo to clear it with Raph and Don with dishwashing duty. Mikey, being the one who cooked this meal, got to go and watch their many televisions, though he did startgushing just a tad bit too loudly how 'nice' it was not having to do anything after dinner, and how 'awesome' it was to have no chores at the moment. This ticked off Raph, who ironically happened to be cleaning a knife at the time, and he came at him. Splinter came to the rescue by reprimanding him in front of his brothers. Close call for him.

For some reason I was already feeling tired by the time that they were done. Actually, I knew that was because I was still healing; sometimes people in thos situations tend to get a little tired. It was pretty amusing, really. At my first yawn Donatello was suddenly at my elbow, looking at me inquiringly. Grinning, I allowed him to help me into the room but refused to let him help any more.

Sometimes a man's gotta do his own thing.

Despite the fact that I was in a strange place yet again, I had all new hurts added to my old ones, my prosthesis was busted and I was even more limited mobility-wise; I felt good. In fact, better than I remember feeling in a long time.

As I lay down on that old, tired mattress I couldn't help but think of my old friend John. I know that hewouldn't be approving of the life that I was living, but somehow I thougth that he would be happy for me now.

With that in my mind I lay down on the pillow, small tears glistening in my eyes, and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

A/N: Once again I feel the need to look out for sniper bullets from angry reviewers. Perhaps I'm over reacting.

Alright! Both stories in there are completely true, the one about the boy I heard from a veteran. The one about the men in the showers...the guys in my boot camp division did the same thing so that's kinda first hand experience there! (Sorry guys, but you're wierd!)

Anywho, if you Read it, Review it! Toodles!


	5. Appreciation

Disclaimer: I don't own the TMNT

A/N: Thank you for your patience through these harsh and harrowing times! Indeed, things are going truly manevolent! As I've told my other storygoers I've been suffering from a severe case of writers block recently but luckily it seems as though I may have been cured. Thanks are given at the end of the chapter to Leo Oneal and Reijiro. This chapter ended up being a lot longer than planned, hope that it's steady and not too boring for ya guys!

* * *

Chapter 5 

Appreciation

* * *

I pushed off from the table and managed to follow Don to the old railcar that was his 'lab.' He was eager to show me his design for my new prosthesis. 

Sitting down in his swivel chair he immediately began to type on his keyboard with a speed that any professional secretary would envy. I leaned my armpits on my crutches and watched him. These guys really are a pretty fascinating species. Obviously with all the mentalities of any human, with more physicality than most of the obese and overweight blokes in this country. I looked at his fingers, mareveling at how he could type so fast. His fingertips were so much bigger than my own, almost three times wider, that you would have thought that he'd hit two or three keys with each stroke. On closer inspection I saw that he was using an odd tecnique to avoid that, tilting his hands so that only the corners of his fingers were used. Pretty interesting.

Soon he had something on the computer screen. Admittedly I was dozing off a bit but I woke up at his excited exclamations. "See, see! I designed it all last night!" What I saw impressed me pretty well. He had an almost three dimensional diagram of the prosthesis that I would need, and it was much more than I had before.

Eagerly he pointed at the computer screen, showing me the highlights. "The one that you had was an IPOP, they're good for starters, but not for long term use. That's why you had to use the crutches so much, the IPOP design wasn't meant to be used for anything but the initial break-in. _This_ one will be much nicer. See that on the top?" He pointed to the area of the prosthesis where my leg would be in connection to it. "It has a special padding, so you won't have to worry about pinching, cutting, or those horrible blisters that you had. Plus it uses a suction-type of connection, so you won't have to wear those straps on your legs anymore. I saw some like it on the internet, but I made some modifications so that it would be better, and have a less likely chance of losing the suction. It won't give you a leg-hickey either," he grinned, seeing the look on my face. "Let's just call it a _gentle_ suction. One made for tender areas of the body such as the end of an amputated limb."

"Now _here_ is the main body of it. It pivots smoothly on a point, much in the same way that a regular knee would. And because the entire leg is enclosed in this skin colored rubber 'bootie' that I'm going to design, you won't have to worry about sand and stuff getting in the kinks and joints. The 'calf' area is designed to mimick a regular leg. There's a steel rod in this area to simulate the shin bone but there is still plenty of support in the 'meat' of the calf. The 'joint' on the ankle is more of a ball and socket system, I found that easiest to accomplish. It has plenty of cushioning, unlike the one that you just busted. That's like walking around in a wooden shoe, the shock going up your leg must have been painful enough. This one, however, is kinda like wearing a therapy shoe. Plenty of shock-absorption technique in the works right there. And the foot is flexible as well. If you take into account that almost half the bones in the human body come from hands and feet, we need to make sure that you get the proper support there as well! The foot has a slight bending capacity, just like a regular one. It will be permanently encased in a tough, but also soft and flexible type of rubber-plastic mixture. We'll need to measure your own foot so that we can match the shoe size. That way you can wear sneakers with the thing, it'll look more normal but at the same time be so much more comfortable, tough and durable that you'll never need to use those crutches again."

He looked at me, a huge grin plastered on his face, awaiting my response. I just stared at the thing, jaw agape. It was much more than I could've possibly hoped for. In the civilian world something like this would have cost a fortune, maybe as much as a brand new, top of the line car. And here I was, given the opportunity to get one at no monetary cost of my own. I just couldn't believe it. A small lump formed in my throat. I coughed, tried to clear it, but it remained there. Carefully I swallowed, and managed to speak past it. "Donatello, it's more than I ever would have expected. Much more. I-I'm not so sure that I can accept anything like this. It'll take so much work..."

Waving me off, his grin widened in obvious pleasure at my appreciation. "Aw, it's nothing! Consider it...a project. Haven't had one of those for a while. And this is a new challenge for me!" He stared at the computer screen, his eyes dancing with anticipation. "I've never done something like this before! Try to mechanically construct a device that resembles the actual human body as closely as possible! It's not often that I get to mix mechanics with anatomy like that! This will truly be fascinating! I'll want to conduct some tests...no offense but I'll have to do it on my brothers. Test the muscles reaction as weight distribution from one leg to another...the stressor points...the muscles and ligaments involved..." He switched out of the program and began typing furiously. Internet sites devoted to study of anatomy and physiology popped up. His eyes caressed over the words, his grin growing ever wider. "I'm so glad that you appreciate the fantastic complexities of the human body as I do. To think of all thes interconnected chains working together in harmony just to achieve life for one individual. Think about it! Every second electricity pumps through the muscles, cells are destroyed, then created. The brain sends messages along synapses to tell the heart to pump, the diaphram to work the lungs, the stomach and intestines to break down food into usable materials and dispose of the waste, the kidneys filter all the blood in the body to produce urine. Glands secret hormones and the liver does the thousands of things that it does. Man doesn't even know all the things that the liver does for us! Countless other things as well! It's better than a finely tuned machine!"

His fenzied typing continued and I watched him, a smile quirked on my lips. He truly was excited about his oncoming project. Maybe a little too excited. He was beginning to sound a wee bit like a mad scientist. I was getting a little tired of standing, the easiest way to stand sometimes is to lean your armpits on the crutch handles, but it isn't the most comfortable. I shifted again, letting the blood flow get back to my tingling arms. Time to go sit down. I gave Donny's arm a gentle squeeze and turned myself around to look for a chair.

One important thing to know about crutches is to move both legs, even though one you shouldn't put any weight on. The reason for this is if you keep your 'hurt' leg stiff or in the same position, the muscle will break down faster and the muscles that aren't stretched will begin to lose their flexibility. It's always a good idea to move your 'hurt' leg in a walking motion without actually putting any weight on it (pretty easy for me) to keep the muscles and the flexibility closer to where it should be. That way using the leg again won't be as painful.

Sorry, mind of a medic rambling again.

I eased myself down in the chair just as Mike hopped out of his room, clutching some new looking comic books in his fingers. Grinning madly he plopped himself down besides me and showed them to me. I looked at them. They were superheroes. Silver Sentry, Superman, Batman, X-Men, Spiderman, and countless others. Obviously excited to show off his new items he gave me an in depth-description of each and every character in each book, how they were related to other characters, what type of world they lived in, and finally what had happened in that particular article of comic.

To be perfectly honest I only heard half of what he said, and will probably remember a fraction of that, but I still nodded and smiled, commented when appropriate and stayed silent until he remembered to take a breath. He was like a little kid, so full of energy and happiness. Not everyone gets to retain that, but everyone should try.In no small way, I envied him.

It took me a little bit to realize that his talk had taken on a different turn entirely. He was now partially complaining of the fact that in the comic books, the superheroes almost always got appreciation; even love and adoration from the public for their heroic works. He and his brothers on the other hand, got no appreciation at all. He vividly described all the times where the person they rescued saw them, immediately screaming and telling them to go away, calling them monsters and freaks and the like. I nodded soberly, agreeing with him. Obviously he just wanted to be recognized.

Leaning back, he sighed. "Ya know, Joe? You're lucky. Everyone's grateful for the military! I mean, you defend the country and stuff!" He looked at me, grinning. "Plus, ya know every girl loves a man in uniform!"

I gave a small smile, but couldn't get it to reach quite where I wanted it to. Michelangelo immediately noticed my lack of enthusiasm and cocked his head at me. "What's up Joe?"

I shook my head. "Nothing. You're right, mostly. There are places that offer military discounts, and there's a lot of appreciation a lot of places. Most people say something like; 'I know I couldn't do something like that so I'm glad that there's people like you,' and believe me, we appreciate it. But..."

"But?"

It was then that I noticed that Leo and Raph were sitting in adjacent chairs. They were both looking at me expectantly. I balked slightly. I knew that these guys were supposed to be ninjas and all, but I still should've heard them come in, sit down on creaky old furniture, and get comfortable shouldn't I? I shook it off. Obviously not.

I continued. "Well, let's just say that not everyone appreciates. I don't really want to sound like I'm complaining or anything, I'm not usually the type..."

"Do not worry about us thinking badly of you, Mr. Ransom. My sons are simply curious."

I jumped in surprise at the sight of the old rat sitting comfortably in the couch cushion besides me, quietly sipping tea. Geesh! How friggin quiet were these guys! No wonder those two can do that if their father can sit besides me without knowing it! Once again I shook it off. I really needed to lear how to do that.

Scratching my head, I tried to think of a way to explain it. "Well, just not everyone does. I've seen guys walk down the street in uniform and get harrassed. Sometimes people throw something on them or something, messing up the uniform. Then they have to decide whether or not to continue and risk getting into trouble for having a visibly dirty uniform or go back and change. Of course those that I heard of were Navy guys, some of their uniforms are white all over. So I guess that it would be kinda obvious." I paused again, hesitating.

I felt an old hand on my lap. Splinter looked up at me with warm brown eyes. "Something of this sort disturbs you? Sometimes it is easier to cope if you share your problems."

"Well, it's not really a problem. It's just something that I saw, well..." I looked at all the expectant faces leaning forward and sighed. I definetly wouldn't get out of this one. "It was at a base where I was getting some militarly training done, medical training. One day, as we were finishing a course, our instructor told us to avoid one of the gates and told us which one. When we asked why, he told us that there were protesters over there. Apparently they'd been there before. The last time it was discovered that they would do 'anything' to 'get a reaction' out of all military members coming out. They wanted to make us feel sorry about joining, apparently, or maybe they wanted to project us as warmongers. Perhaps they were upset about the war in the Middle East and blamed us for it. After all, we would likely go over there so it was 'obviously' our fault. People cried, uniforms were damaged, some people got enraged, and most just got plain terrified. Imagine, being surroundedby angry protestors screaming obscenities at you, you can't do anything to stop them and it must be so hard to escape..." I paused, thinking back. Funny, I had almost forgotten it. Ishook my head.My friends around me listened in silence. I appreciated it.

"Since we were at training, not only did we have to wear uniforms but the majority of us didn't have cars in that base, so a lot of us walked over to catch a taxi outside of the gates and such. Well, I was fairly young, and I had never seen these types of protestors before. The only ones that I'd seen were the ones who staked out with lawn chairs and their signs held up with cupholders and the like. Well, I had gotten close enough to the gate to see those people, and I remember my stomach going cold. I don't know why anyone would try to go out there, they scared the young person that I was. It was odd to me," I smiled sarcastically, shaking my head, "that the reason that we joined was so that they would have the right to protest and insult us. So that they would have the _right._ Thinking on that point, it was equally disturbing that me, fresh out of boot camp had encountered my first so called 'enemy' and they weren't even anywher overseas. They were right here in my own country. It just struck me in an odd way...can't quite explain it..."

I sat back with a sigh. The room remained equally quiet for a long, still moment, then finally Splinter spoke and broke the silence. "I think that you have explained it adequately enough, Mr. Ransom. Thank you."

It took a little longer for the others to react, but when they did it surprised me. Raph and Mike both hopped up from the chairs, obviously upset. Well, Raph was more ticked off than upset. He paced the floor for a moment, rambling something about 'ingrateful boneheads' then finally leapt over the couch to vent his complaints on the punching bag. Mikey was distressed and asked me several times if it was real.Of course I answered yes. "But it's not the majority of the population, I'm sure it's just a percentage."

Leo crossed his arms and stewed in the chair with a deep scowl etched on his face, brooding over it. With one last smile at me, Splinter got up and went to attend to his son.

It was about then that Donny came hopping over, still ecstatic over his future project. I have to say it was pretty funny comparing his moods with that of every single other member in the room. But he didn't seem to notice. "Joe! I have a list of the starter items that I'll be needing. This will be so exciting! I can't wait untilI can see you walking around on two full legs! I'm just going to head up and get with April to get the supplies."

"Why can't I go? At least I won't attract quite as much attention as you. And who is April?"

"Oh, she's a human friend that we have. And I don't want you to head up yet, you're not healed enough. I saw how much trouble you had standing for ten minutes over by my workshop. I won't have you overexerting yourself."

"Yes mother."

He blushed. "Oh I didn't mean...ah, oh well. Besides, April used to work in a lab. She'll know where to get the types of high-quality rubber and plastics that we'll be needing. Plus, we, uh, might not come by all the items in a, ah, completely legal manner."

Before I had a chance to interrupt he scampered off after his Master obviously to ask for permission. I looked at his brother Mike beside me and quirked an eyebrow. "Illegal means?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "How do you think we got the battle shell? It's not like someone just gave it to us. And the electricity? You think we get a bill for that?" He shook his head. "We scavenge as much as we can, but some things you just can't find in the dumps. Before we met April and Casey, that's how we got all our fresh fruits and veggies and other undamaged, uneaten proccessed foods."

I shook my head. Somehow, I knew that this was going to end badly.

* * *

A/N: I know! I know! Bad ending. But if I didn't stop here, I'd have another two thousand words on here before I knew what hit me! I would like to thank the joint efforts of Leo Oneal for getting me a kick in the but to get started on this and the next few chapers and Reijiro for helping me to decide how to fit in Joe's story. That particular story, just like all the others is real. The only difference is that this one is first hand. I saw it myself while obtainting my medical training in the upper states. Some of the comments, such as what the protesters were after, were garnished from my own mind and the minds of several of my friends who were equally disturbed. 

I know that I took up a large portion of the story with the Don describing the prosthesis and sorry if it bored you a bit. It's just a complicated process creating a human body part and I'm obviously passionate about the human body in general. So Don's ramblings are entirely my fault! Hope that you enjoyed the story anyway.

Remember, if you read it, review it! Toodles!


	6. Dreams

Disclaimer: I don't own the TMNT

A/N: Hello! Sorry it took so long to update. My excuses are that I'm so incredibly TIRED all the time (I blame it on the pregnancy) and that we are having a major baby boom at work. All day I'm recovering babies, doing vital signs, changing diapers, helping with circumcisions you name it! No time to sit at the computer, but that's all right. Well, at least I managed to squeeze this chapter out somehow!

Chapter 6

Dream

* * *

Don asked Splinter for permission to go topside. Once he heard the reason he readily agreed. "Travel safely, my son. Be sure that you are not seen when you scout for the medical and mechanical supplies that you tell me are needed." 

He grinned. "Oh, don't worry Sensei! I'm ninja!" Turning to me he gave me a 'thumbs up' before rushing to his room to gather some needed gear. "Maybe I can let the professor know to be on the lookout for any supplies that I don't come across!"

"And please, be careful! You know how nervous I get when you must go to the hospitals..."

"Sure, Sensei!" He yelled from his room.

I looked after him, worried. Somehow this didn't sit right. And it wasn't just the stealing part.

The young orange banded turtle seemed to read my mind. "Don't worry, he always looks through the hospital's trash before resorting to stealing anything. Even then, just like the medical supplies that we have here; he'll always look for one that has 'extra' of whatever he needs before sneaking it out."

I nodded my head. As much as my gut may go against it, they must steal in order to get some basic supplies. I can't see someone throwing out perfectly good medicine or sterile supplies. I know for sure they wouldn't throw out unopened packages of needles.

He came out of his room with a backpack, an empty burlap bag and extremely thick rubber globes. I scratched my head. "What are those for?"

"Oh, these?" He held up his gloves. "That's for looking through the trash. They're in case someone threw away a used needle. Can never be too careful!" With that he skittered to the other side of the Lair, reaching for his shell cell to call his friend April.

At least he was smart enough to bring the gloves. Especially in the past, medical care workers and cleaners were among the highest HIV and other disease carriers. This was simply because they would accidently prick themselves with a used needle when changing the trash, throwing something away, or even right after treating a patient; pricking themselves by accident. To help preven this, special Sharps containers were created for used needles or anything else with a sharp edge. Needles were equipped with special 'covers' or 'guards' so that right after using a clean one on a patient you could cover up the hazardous point before accidently pricking yourself. If you were somehow pricked anyway, then it was common practice to obtain a blood sample from the patient (if known) and of course yourself and tested for all transmittable diseases. The pain came if you didn't know who the patient was, then you went through many blood tests over the course of many years waiting to see if some disease would pop up.

Damn I should really stop rambling like that.

Michelangelo was apparently in a talkative mood. I don't know if he always does this, or if he's just taking advantage of my ignorance as 'the new guy' and taking my ear off. Either way, this in particular was interesting. He began to tell me how they met April, the first human they had contact with, and the first that they brought to the Lair. I smiled at the part where she screamed, then fainted at the sight of Splinter. Apparently he has that sort of reaction on most people.

Not Casey, apparently. It seems the first time that he met Splinter, the old rat drop kicked him and pinned him down with his walking stick. That sounds pretty funny, considering how the guy is described to be more than twice the height of the rat.

It amazed me that they had other people that they could count on, it also gladdened me. For the very same reason. From what he was telling me, getting supplies was much easier, plus human contact seemed to be something that they prized. That wasn't surprising considering how most humans react to them, it's probably a blessing to find one that doesn't smack you with her purse! And lastly, it was the simple friendship aspect. Understandably they don't make many friends, being who they are and all. That must be why they accepted me so readily. Leonardo might still distrust me slightly, but that was only because of my potential for endangering his family. Even then I was grateful for this. They cared, worried about, and protected each other. They were a family.

Don rushed past us, waved good-bye and headed out to the elevator while dialing someone on his cellular tellephone (shell cell?). Mikey claimed that it was April. Apparently Casey was too bumbling to be counted on discreet stuff like this, in fact they weren't even sure that the guy knew the meaning of the word 'discretion.' I was interested in meeting these people.

It was getting late, or at least that was what my sore muscles, bruises, and aching stump was telling me. I told the guys that I was going to hit the sack. I had to refuse about ten million offers of assistance, and I did it as politely as I could. Despite the multitude, they didn't push or shove like others do. I've turned down offers of assistance from other people before, and they seem to take it as a sign that I'm too handicapped to comprehend that I mean what I say and move to help me anyway. I usually end up accidently hurting their feelings then, it's not like I mean to or anything but it really irritates me when people don't listen to what I say just becuase I'm 'wounded.' It's not like I'm dragging myself around moaning a 'poor me' song all day or something.

I managed to reach the door to my renovated room without falling. I peeked behind me and couldn't help but quirk a small smile at the turtles. They seemed to be physically restraining themselves from helping me. They looked so tense, but I really respected that despite that they let me do it myself. I don't know why it's such a big deal, maybe if you ever end up in a similar situation and happen to be the independent type you'll understand.

I nudged the door open with my shoulder and practically fell into bed. I hit the compressed mattress with a loud 'whuff!' and managed not to groan. Immediately every bruised and battered cell in my body began to complain loudly, I bit my tongue again to stiffle another moan. I must have gotten my foot caught behind my crutch, not the first time that it's happened. Pretty darn irritating.

I must have been pretty pooped, though. I hardly had time to roll both crutches off the mattress and scoot all the way on again and I was asleep.

_I flipped three aces down on the deck. The three other soldiers that were playing with me glared at me as I grinned. This is one reason why I love to play rummy so much, I always seem to be lucky with the cards! _

_My lifelong friend, John, grinned with me and set down a suite of diamonds, king all the way to a 3. Trust him to try to best me, the punk! _

_The other player started to play his hand. The wind rustled. I had only been here a few weeks and I was already getting used to the sand everywhere. I was still slightly irritated about my nose being clogged and dry and the sand in my eyes, though. The heavy material that made up are tent flapped slightly. I took a moment to try to soak in what wind I could. After today, the wind was a blessing.I wasn't used to this kind of weather, desert weather. Blistering hot in the daytime, then the temperature drops like no other during the night. It wasn't quite night yet, but nor was it day. So basically, the weather was perfect to take a few moments to relax._

_Boom!_

_John and I perked up in our seats at the sound of the explosion. Our other two players, already veterans (for one, it was his thrid deployment) chuckled at us. "What you getting all hopped up for? That one wasn't anywhere near us!" They grinned at themselves and calmly set some cards down._

_My turn. I'll admit I was nervous about the mortar rounds in the distance but I didn't want to seem all nervous when these guys obviously didn't mind. I hastily put down a card._

_Boom! Boom! Boom!_

_Once again John and I hopped in our seats and once again the two vets laughed. Slightly irritated, I glared at my cards. "Those weren't anywhere near us either boys!"_

_Boom! Boom! Boom!...BOOM!_

_John and I actually managed to not jump out of our seats, but we wished we did when we saw the two other players nervously glance at the direction of the mortar rounds. "Alright, guys, that one was just a bit closer. Maybe the others will be further away..."_

_Boom! BOOM! **BOOOOOOOOM!**_

_Immediately the other two stood up in their chairs, the cheap metal scrapling agains the sand. "Alright, boys, maybe now we should skeedaddle!" We followed them hurriedly as another deafening explosion came even closer. The tent shook and sand sprinkled down upon our heads. _

_This was my first mortar round. It wasn't too bad, considering what I saw elswhere. After all, nearly everyone says that the two worst places to be during war is in the front line and in the medical tent. Especially the medical personnell. You are garunteed to see death, pain, and things that will haunt you forever. I remember hearing that in class, but this is the first time I saw it, overseas._

_Suddenly images flashed throuh my mind. People with hamburger meat for limbs. People screaming in pain as we frantically tried to calm them enough to treat them. A couple of times we had to restrain the frantic victims. Children came in too. That was hard. Innocents. Civilians. Hurt both by our fire and the fire of their own people. The smell of death. When a person died, all muscles relaxed. Including the sphincters holding in your feces and urine. Sometimes I thought that it was God's sick joke to have us do this indignity the moment we pass.There actually is a light in people's eye's, you know. I've seen it. One moment their eyes are alive, the next moment they are glassy, dull, lifeless. _

_My mind flashed to John's eyes as we were suspended upside down in the truck. He looked towards me, but he couldn't look at me. He couldn't look at anything anymore, and it was all my fault. I shouldn't have hit it, I should have seen it before it hit me. I should have..._

"Joe! Joe! Hey Joe! Wake up!"

My sleep was shattered as Mikey shook me awake, pretty darn roughly. All the multitude of wounds screamed at his handling. I ground my teeth and was about to say something dirty at him but the next thing he said cleared my mind completely.

"Joe! Donny's gone! He never came back!"

* * *

A/N: Hope that you liked this chapter. I actually had free time at work. This is the second weekend in a row that I'm working, and let me tell you it isn't fun! Twelve hour shifts have their good points but at this time I really think that they suck. 

Alrighty. The mortar round story, completely true. From someone that I know very closely. All the talk after that, all true and bits and peices from everywhere. That part about the light in the eyes is true as well, I've seen it go myself. It hit's you real hard the first time that you see it, that's all I'll say about that.

Remember, if you read it, review it!

Toodles!


	7. Triage

Disclaimer: I don't own the TMNT

A/N: Thank you to all who reviewed. I know that this story isn't incredibly popular but I appreciate you guys sticking with me! This chapter is a little bit bloodier than the others and contains medical stuff. You are prewarned in case you are uncomfortable with the subject.

Hope that you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter 7

Triage

* * *

I was up as soon as I heard it. Apparently I had been asleep for quite a while, almost eight hours, which is why the others were so worried. They continuously repeated to themselves that Donny was the _last_ turtle who would do something like this to them. They got ready in a flurry of motion, I must have seemed slow compared to them. I wondered why they were bringing me in the first place, a crippled husk of a man. Almost as if reading my mind Splinter answered that everyone had something to commit, even if we didn't know what it was. 

Me and my slow butt was ready by the time the four others were and immediately we headed to the elevator. This was the first time that I'd been in the thing, it moved a lot smoother than the ones that I've been on. It didn't jerk me on my crutches at all.

Their vehicle was impressive, I must say. I recognized it as some sort of armored truck, obviously stolen from some unknown source. Probably a 'bad guy' source. It was souped up and carefully camouflaged, probably done extensively by Donatello. I got into the back of the thing, I could feel the sheer weight of it. I wonder what kind of gas mileage this thing gets on the street?

Apparentlytheir decision to head out was compelled by a worried call from April saying that he hadn't gone to meet her like he said he would to pick up supplies. This is straight where we headed. They piled out of the truck in a haste. I patiently waited for them to scatter, knowing that I'd get in the way if I tried earlier. Once the way was clear I hoisted up my crutches and slowly hobbled off the back of the truck. The turtles had already sprinted to the shop that I suppose was April's and were talking with her urgently. Or at least I think that that was her. She was a slim, attractive redhead that seemed to have no problem showing a bit of skin. Strange sort of 'sister' for four martial arts trained talking turtles.

Realizing instantly my lack of use in the situation I leaned against the truck as they pulled out their little phones and scattered, trying to trace the signal from Donatello's little phone. Neat little gadgets he comes up with.

Rubbing her shoulders against the cold, April spied me lounging and approached. I shifted uncomfortably. Most of my recent encounters with women usually involved squeals of pitty about the 'poor wittle soldier' who got a 'great big boo boo in the war' and I wasn't really in the mood.

She approached nonetheless and I steeled myself. She looked me up and down briefly before looking away and said nothing at first. I looked at her curiously. She grinned nervously. "Sorry for staring, usually I don't do that but I guess that I'm kinda nervous about Donny. The guys want me to hang around the shop in case he returns."

I nodded, looking out onto the street. Looks like the nightlubs were opening, people were starting to wander out onto the streets like harried animals. I grinned at the comparison.

"I've heard some about you from the guys. You sure are a help to Donny. He doesn't really get to interact with a lot of people, most aren't intellectual types." She continued.

"Mmm. He's a good guy."

She smiled at me and I relaxed a little. I put a point in the guy's book for not making friends with a ditzy woman. The phone rang in her shop. Politely she excused herself and went inside to answer it. I took a breath and looked up. Pity you couldn't see any stars in a city like this, even with all the lights out and everyone asleep. Well, perhaps the light doesn't have anything to do with it; wonder how much smog is clogging the sky's pores up there?

I don't know why, but for some reason something caught my eye. A big something. I jerked my head. A woman could be seen walking down the opposite sidewalk, chatting energetically with five or six friends. She was in typical club gear, and her platinum blonde hair swayed out by her hips. The dark stillness of the night kept me from making out too much, but the very sight of her made my heart skip several beats. My palms sweated in the handles of my crutches and my breath quickened. It was something about her, something that I'm sure I would've recognized no matter what the condition.

Emily?

She didn't notice me at all, just kept on walking, talking with her friends. One of her male friends stepped next to her and wrapped his arm around her waist in a comfortable, relaxed manner. Like he'd done it before.

Instinctively my grips on the handles of my crutches tightened to the point that I couldn't feel my fingers. Why was he doing that?

Calm down, Joe. You can't see her that well. That might not even be Emily. But it could at the same time, couldn't it? I'm sure that there are millions of blonds in New York, both real and fake. What makes you think that this one is the one that you've been searching for all this time?

My brain spoke this calm, rational thoughts. Tried to reason it out. Nonetheless I heaved myself off the truck and felt myself moving forward. What was I doing? I shouldn't be doing this! She had to have a reason for doing what she did, didn't she? Well, maybe I should just mosey on over and find out that particular reason...

My blood was pumping an my heart was racing, so I didn't notice them come up behind me until Mikey grabbed me roughly on the shoulder. "Joe! C'mon! Let's go! The cops are out!"

I shook my head, breaking her spell, and looked at Mike. He looked so nervous, why? It was then that I looked over his shoulder and saw the commotion in the back of the truck. One of the figures was on the floor, lying still as dead, the others were working frantically over him.

Donny!

With speed quicker than I thought that I could manage on the sticks I used, I propelled myself into the truck. No sooner had I touched the metal than the driver hit the floor. We sped out of the area burning rubber. I could see the lights of the policeman's vehicles flashing in the distance before I heard a thing. I tried to sit down but the vehicle swerved into a tight turn. The floor was slick and I fell the the floor heavily, slamming my body against the forward wall just away from Donny. I gritted my teeth in pain as the familiar agony shot through my body, forcing all my muscles to tense convusively.

I didn't really get anywhere else, the floor was slick, wet and the driver was halfway insane. I couldn'thave gotten up even if I had full use of my legs. The floor was what bothered me. It wasn't supposed to be slick. And the smell, the all too familiar coppery acrid taste of blood. I couldn't see a thing, it was too dark.But I could tell by the somewhat quiet, frantic way that his brothers worked on him that it wasn't good. If only I could get there...

The truck sped into the warehous and screeched to a halt. Immediately the doors flew open and the turtles and their master snatched up Donatello and sprinted across the floor. The doors flapped lazily behind them, ignoring the frantic heat of the situation completely.

I lay on the floor for a moment. They had completely forgotten about me, but that was alright. I probably shouldn't have come in the first place. Now that the truck was in partial light I could see the blood pooled at the floor of the truck and it tied my throat in a knot. I had to get out of here.

I tried to get up but slipped in his blood the first time, landing on my chin and splattering crimson everywhere. My second attempt was more successful, but I still slipped and slid everywhere like a gangly colt.

The difficulty of it disturbed me. Was there that much blood? I tried to reassure myself by acknowledging that the floor was slick in the first place, and it was flat enough that even a small amount of blood would spread.

Was I just kidding myself?

I reached over and dragged my crutches across the bloodied surface, balancing on my one foot. Propping them under my armpits I swung over to the elevator. Punching the button furiously, I hopped in and began my descent.

I knew from the moment that I got out of it that there was trouble. The turtles and the rat were huddled around their fallen brother, talking uselessly.

"What do we do!"

"I wish April were here, Don's going to die!"

"He's NOT going to die! We had to leave April there to confront the police. Don used April's card to get in and they found it..."

"My sons, we must make some sort of action quickly!"

I swung over to them and peered over their shoulders. What I saw made me gasp and involuntarily I shoved the turtles aside. I knew that they didn't know what they were doing.

"Hey! What do you think that your doing, Joe! He's hurt!"

No shit, sherlock, I muttered in my head. They went silent as they saw me scan Don's body. The first thing that attracted my attention was his chest. He had a puncture in the right side of his pectoral, or his plastron. It had obviously reached either the lungs, the pleural sac, or the lung cavity because blood was bubbling out of the wound slightly, but not as much as it was getting sucked in. The air, once inside, was making less room for his lungs to expand. His breathing was shallow as it was he didn't need that added stress.

On top of that he had a bleeder on his arm, it was spurting some bright red blood. My shirt was off and pressure was applied before I fully realized what was happening. Snatching Splinter's hand so quick that I surprised him, I ordered him to apply heavy pressure.

Without fully realizing it I demanded some tape. I'm not sure if it was the tone of my voice or the way I asked for it, but someone went scampering for it. Then I demanded all the emergency medical supplies that were avaliable.

Reaching into my pocket I yanked out my wallet. Picking out the first plastic card my fingers came in contact with I slapped it on his chest. At that moment my tape arrived. Taping three edges of the card down, I created a good suction to the open chest wound. At that moment he breathed in and air frothed out of the untaped corner of the card. Once he breathed out, the now wet section of card kept the suction up, allowing no air to get in. No air in, air gets out. Just the way that I wanted it.

I looked at Splinter. My shirt was already getting soaked in bright red blood. The blood spurt, although obviously arterial, wasn't nearly as big as it could have been. With luck that meant that the brachial artery wasn't completely severed, only nicked.Hurriedly I looked through the medical kit. I needed something with more pressure. I ordered Leonardo to take Splinter's place, he has more strenght behind him. Quickly selecting some clean gauze I quickly shifted the shirt out of place and the guaze in it's place. The blood quickly started to soak through. Holding it with as much pressure as I could muster, I quickly stacked several more pieces of guaze on. Each in turn showeda growing red stain in them until finally, the stain's growth slowed with I'm not sure how many guaze.Leo's hands clasped over mine, lending his wieght to the pressure. Swiftly I wriggled my hand out and snatched up some tegaderm. Careful to maintain pressure while allowing Leo to slip his fingers out I quickly wrapped it around his bicep. Taking a second to check to make sure that I didn't put it on so tight that it completely cut off the blood flow, I moved on.

Now that that was temporarily taken care of I did a quick scan of his body. Hishead had a contusion on the left side. Quickly I opened his eyelids and peeked at the pupils. They were equal and round, at least he doesn't have any intercranial pressure from the blow. So no leaking into the brain: good.With nimble fingers I palpated his neck. I fingered over his jugular. The pulse was weak, but at least it was steady. His blood pressure was probably dropping considerably. Damn!

His breath was still extremely shallow and was coming in faint gasps. Wishing to God for a good stethescope I saw none and ended up putting an ear to his chest. His breathing sounded good in the left side, but on the right it didn't sound so good; especially on the upper lobe. God I hope that the bulled is only in his pleural space, not in his lung.

His other arm was in good condition. His chest and abdomen were covered in blood. Naturally I couldn't tell if he had any morewounds because everything wasbloody. AndI didn't want to stick my fingers in it.Frustrated, I glanced through the kit. Snatching a bottle of sterile saline, I uncorked the lid and splashed it on his stomach. The blood washed off and finally was able to view it. He had a gash around where a human's belly button would be, but it wasn't deep. I don't think that it went through the plastron. It could wait.

Then I saw something that made me groan inside. There was an impaled object in his leg. Or more accurately, his left thigh. It looked like a peice of reebar. Touching the flesh around it lightly I felt for fluid buildup. Then I saw a pair of green turtle hands grab the bar. Immediately I slapped them away. Raph glared at me.

"What do you think you're doing!"

I glared right back. "What has that piece of metal punctured, Raph? For all we know it could be clean through the femoral artery, and if we remove it the pressure will be gone and he'll bleed to death. Or it could be close to one of the main nerves running through his leg. What if you pull it out incorrectly and damage the nerve? What then? There could be somany things that pulling it out could start right now, I'd say that we take care of his other more serious issues first. What do you think?"

His mouth worked and then it clamped shut. He pounded off like a spoiled child. Damn I'm too old for this.

Slowly I turned to the others. They looked at me with expecting eyes. Damn. I sighed and looked at the medical kit.

"Y'all wouldn't happen to know his blood type now would you?"

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A/N: Sucky place to end? I know. I'm sorry! I'm just about to fall asleep dead! I can't help it! Besides, this chapter's pretty long, I hope that you guys enjoyed it despite what it is.

Remember, if you Read it, Review it!

Toodles!


	8. Triage Continued

Disclaimer: I don't own the TMNT

A/N: Yes! I'm back after a long absence. I've had some medical difficulties of my own. Luckily they haven't effected my baby in the slightest, I'm in the 2nd tri and she's a girl. This is one story that I definetly won't give up so you don't have to worry about that. There's more boring medical mumbo jumbo in here (tee hee hee!) so suck it up! Hope you enjoy the chapter.

Chapter 8

Triage Continued

The family of mutants looked at me quizically at my request for blood type.

Leo stepped forward. "We don't know what our blood type is, or even, being what we are, if we even _have _a blood type. Why are you asking? Does Donny need blood!"

Splinter was fretting more than I thought possible, his frail looking hand was trembling as it rested on Donatello's forehead. "If he is still bleeding, is there a way to stop it? I remember you telling us of being a medic, perhaps you know a way."

I shifted my weight on my crutch, my one leg complaining of being in one position for so long. "Well the thing is...I don't know. Part of it has to do with what you are."

Leonardo stepped closer to me, looking slightly offended and angry. "What do you mean what we are?"

I took a breath. Don't want to get him upset. Calm down. I let the breath out and continued, switching to the somewhat detatched 'doc' mode. "You see, one of my biggest worries is his abdomen and chest. There is no exit wound for the bullet so I don't know where it's lodged. When I said because of what you are, I am talking about you anatomy and who you are. Anatomy wise: with a human, on many occasions you can tell if they're bleeding internally by looking at them. A bruise will form on their chest, or whatever area of skin it's located in. Not only do you have more leathery, darker skin, but your entire chest, abdomen, and pelvis is either covered by a shell or plastron. Secondly, who you are. It's not like I can take him to the hospital and get him x-rayed to see where the bullet is and if it's causing any more damage for obvious reasons. I didn't mean to offend you if I did."

Apparently I got the realities of the situation through and he nodded. "Well, we know someone who might have some type of x-ray."

This caught my attention. "Who?"

"He's a mutant crocodile named Leatherhead. Both he and Donny were into technical stuff, but I guess you could say that LH was more into it than Donny was. Especially after he was experimented on by the government, you could say that it sparked his interest even more."

I clapped my hands. "Good. Do I have any volunteers to see him?"

Mikey raised his hand. "Alright. See if he has any type of x-ray or ultrasound or any type of imaging device that may be of use to us. If it isn't portable see if he has a stretcher, otherwise we'll just have to construct one here. Just describe the situation and ask if he has any other type of medical equipment that we could possibly use, especially with the impaled object. I want to know what will happen if we pull it out."

He sped off like his tail was on fire. I turned to the others. "Now, to answer your other question: yes, I really believe that he needs blood. See how pale his gums are?" I lifted Don's lip to show them. "Yeah, they shouldn't be that pale. But since you don't even know if you have blood types, I don't want to risk any type of transfusion. That could kill him quicker than lack of blood would. What we'll use instead in the meantime is IV fluids and rest. Once he is able to eat, get some proteins and irons into him to help him build back his blood supply. He needs plenty of rest. I don't know how much blood he lost, so I don't want him to lose any more. I don't know how much more he needs to lose to kill him. For this reason among others I'm leaving the bar in his leg. If it did sever an artery, it's not showing on the skin yet. With most impaled objects like that as long as it's in it actually hinders the leakage which is a good thing, because I don't know how to stop it at this point."

Splinter looked at me. "What do you mean you don't know how to stop it? You are medical."

I shook my head, rubbing my hand through my hair in frustration. "I'm not trained in everything. Half the stuff that I just did I'm not allowed to do, doctors are supposed to do it. I just learned how because there isn't always a doctor handy in the middle of a battlefield. Technically that bar is a _surgeon's_ job but obviously we won't have one at our disposal any time soon. Now, to start that IV."

I searched through the medical kit for an IV. He had six. All the IV's were visibly old, but they were still in their sterile packages so they would work. A 20g, three 18g and two 16g. Since the sixteen was the biggest one there and he had two of them, I started with that one. Using the cut off large rubber band, I tightened a turniquiet on his upper forearm. I rubbed the skin to heat it up, dipping it below the table and slapping the skin at the same time. His veins were being stubborn. The lack of blood and probably dehydration wasn't going to make this easy.

Feeling my leg cramping in the squatted position I swallowed my pride and called Leo over to help support me. It's hard to squat with only one leg. Unwrapping the IV and a heplock, I gave the heplock to Leo to hold for a moment and held the IV at ready, bevel up. I could feel a vein on the underside of his forearm and it was straight enough that I was going to go for it. I slid the needle under his skin and watched for the flash of blood. There was none. Slowly I pulled it out a bit, though not enough to take the needle out. Choosing a different direction I felt for the vein as I fished it in the new direction. A flash of red appeared at the hilt of the IV. Not wanting to damage the vein, I kept the needle where it was and, applying pressure over the site to stop blood spilling I slowly threaded the IV catheter in the vein without the needle. It glided in smoothly. Snatching the heplock I screwed it over the tiny hub until it was secure. Releasing my pressure and the turniquet I inspected the site. It looked good.

Selecting some tape I secured the IV with three thin strands in the 'football' style before selecting some tegaderm to give it extra hold. After that I asked to see the IV bags. To my dismay every single one of them was expired but in this case beggars can't be choosers. At least none of them were expired for more than a year. Looking at all the plastic bags full of clear fluid, I selected one that would befit my needs for now. It's not like the choices were plentiful. It was a bag of regular D5LR. For those of you non-medical folks, D5 stands for dextrose. Yep. You guessed it, sugar. He needs to keep his levels up anyway since there is sugar in every cell, and he lost a lot of blood cells. LR stands for lactated ringers, which is basically electrolytes broken down into laymen's terms. That's right, electrolytes are in gatorade and other such drinks. Basically it's good for you. Will help keep the energy up and such.

He had plenty of unopened bags of IV tubing, I just selected one. I connected it with the bag. Leo managed to find a coathanger looking thing that we could use as an IV pole. The only real important thing anyway was that it was higher than him. By using the clamp, I adjusted the IV drip rate. I didn't want it to be too fast and flood his system. I monitored the IV site for a moment, palpating it with my fingers to make sure it wasn't infiltrating, (IV fluid going somewhere other than the vein). I could feel the coolness of the fluid trailing up his arm and the IV hub was clear. It was running in good.

Then the elevator door opened and immediately the two beside me whipped around, weapons at ready. They immediately relaxed when April stepped through. "Sorry it took so long for me to get here, guys. The police kept me over asking questions about how Don got my pass card. I finally convinced them that it was stolen."

Leo stepped forward to walk with her. "Did you find out what happened to Donny?"

She nodded. "He caught the attention of a security guard. I guess you know how Don is when he gets a hold of new 'toys' for a project. Then he apparently jumped out of the window to escape but the bullet found him along the way. It wasn't a first story window either." She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath."How is he? Can I see him?"

They led her over to him and quickly she assessed him over. Her face was pale but she gave me a shaky smile. "You did great. I'm glad that you were here. These guys are very special to me."

"We're waiting for their friend, uh Leather...?"

"Leatherhead."

"Yeah, to see if he has any equipment that would allow us to see one: where the bullet is lodged and two: what the reebar in his leg is hindering."

She looked him over again and nodded. I looked at her. In a way, she looked so much like my Emily. Emily always looked innocent. Then again, appearances could be decieving. I found that out when I came back from the war.

She startled me with her next question. "Is there anything that you think you'd need that's not here? I might be able to get it."

I shrugged. "Not sure. Most the stuff he _needs_ isn't exactly within everyday public's reach."

I looked at Donatello. He stirred slightly in his sleep but didn't wake up. It was too bad that he couldn't get the best of care, the best of equipment. Society could be so cruel sometimes. I shifted my weight from one crutch to the other. My good leg was stiffening up. How long have I been standing? Probably too long. I'd better go sit down.

I was just finding my seat as I heard the elevator open and saw their friend. My eyes widened. They weren't joking! That guy is huge. Simply put. He was much more massive muscular-wise than any of the other humans. His heavy tail probably weighed as much as me. Pointed claws tipped each of his fingers and bony ridges jutted down his back.He spotted me and smiled. Pointy teeth poked out of his mouth. I couldn't resist the tremor that went through me. Great. Here I was pitying the judgemental humans and here I was doing the same thing!

"My friends, I was hoping I could be of assistance."

Well, at least he sounded friendly.

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A/N: Ending this chapter has been making me tear my hair out. Next chapter will get some more things moving. I will go through part of what went on in 'past explanations'and go onto what I'm getting into with the plot. Hopefully, at least. This story never had a solid plot to begin with but it will end soon after the showdown between Emily and Joe.

Toodles!


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